Everything Short of Suicide
by Sonny.With.A.Firefly
Summary: Narrow line, she can't decide, everything short of suicide never hurts, nearly works... Fiona breaks down and can only find one way to help herself.


_She doesn't look, she doesn't see_

I looked down at the ground, forcing my gaze away from the pictures on my wall. We were all so _damn_ happy then, before he'd broken this family apart.

_Opens up for nobody_

There would be questions tomorrow. Questions, but no answers. That was how it always went, and for once, I wished for some originality, some unpredictability in these breakdowns.

_Figures out, she figures out_

I held the knife to my arm, holding back my tears. If only the happy fucking family in those photos could see me now.

_Narrow line, she can't decide_

It wasn't the first time I'd let my self-destructive streak take over. But a tiny voice in the back of my mind held me back. Was this really necessary?

I heard Declan moving around in the room across the hall, and though my heart begged me desperately to seek comfort from him, to do anything but this, I pushed those thoughts away and readied myself.

_Everything short of suicide_

I didn't want to kill myself. I'd repeated this so many times to the voices in my head and the therapists I'd been forced to see, but I guess they would never really understand. I pulled the blade across my arm, watching in fascination as my blood ran down the sides and dripped to the floor.

_Never hurts, nearly works_

It didn't hurt – at least, not in the way they'd expect it to. It was pleasure, not pain. I smiled a little, relieved and almost happy, almost but not quite. I pressed the knife down again for another cut.

_Something's scratching it's way out_

As more and more of my blood flowed, my mind wandered, eventually settling on one of the many things that had led me to this weakened, pathetic state.

_Something you wanna forget about_

The flashbacks forced their way into my mind, and I cringed as I watched myself struck repeatedly with anything my father could get his hands on.

_A part of you that'll never show_

The only one who knew about it was my mom, and she thought I was over it.

I wasn't.

_You're the only one that'll ever know_

I couldn't even tell Declan, as much as I loved him. I was too scared. I would never be able to get help, and there was no point into dragging him into this if it wasn't necessary.

_Take it back, when it all began_

I threw my knife across the room, smiling in sick satisfaction as it dug deep into my wall. I wouldn't be like this if it weren't for that bastard, my 'father'.

_Take your time, would you understand what it's all about?_

Suddenly, the tears I'd always been so good at blinking away tore through my body, my sobs wrenching at me loudly.

"Fiona?" My brother's voice, then a door opening.

"Fiona! Oh God, Fiona, what did you do?" His voice was thick with panic, fear, and most of all caring for another person, an emotion I thought I'd never see in him. He took me in his arms, guiding my head to his shoulder.

_Something's scratching it's way out_

"Declan, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He shook his head, choking out, "It's not your fault, it'll be okay." He left me briefly, alone on the floor, as he searched for a towel. Finally finding one, he pressed it to my arm and put his hand under my chin, lifting my head up and locking eyes with me. "Fiona, please tell me what's wrong."

After a few deep, shuddering breaths, I managed to whisper, "I... I cut myself."

For a second, I thought I saw a flash of amusement in his eyes, but it was soon beaten out by his concern. "I can see that. But why?"

_Something you want to forget about_

"You're going to hate me for this. You loved him so much." At the blank look on Declan's face, I forced back a fresh sob and continued, "Our... our dad... he hit me."

After a few minutes of silence, he looked up from the floor, and said quietly, "Hate _you_? Fi, if there's anyone for me to hate, it's _him_."

I almost couldn't believe that those words had come out of my brother's mouth, he'd always had so much respect for our father. I could only imagine the turmoil twisting inside of him upon hearing that. "Thank you... But... how can you not hate me? There must be something wrong with me, he couldn't love me, and I can't love myself..."

"He was an asshole, and he will never affect how much I love you. And you _will_love yourself, eventually, I'll make sure of that." His eyes were dripping with fear and sorrow, and I could barely look into them.

Hopeless, I let the towel fall and looked at my arm. "Declan, what have I gotten myself into? And how will I ever get out?"

_No one expects you to get up_

"You won't."

I winced and bit my lip, trying not to let him see how much those words hurt me.

_All on your own with no one around_

"Not alone."

I looked up, and he was smiling at me, one of those smiles you couldn't help but return.

"Declan, I really am sorry. For... for never talking to you about this before. I'm so glad I did. This is the first time I've felt hope in years."

With those words, his smile faltered a little, and the sparkle in his eyes seemed plastered on. "Don't be sorry. I should've realized that something was wrong. I guess I just never paid that much attention, and I didn't think about the consequences that could have."

But my smile was real, and I tilted my head, replying, "It's okay. I'm not your responsibility." I hugged him, warmth cascading through my body when he wrapped his arms around me, and I murmured, "I love you."

"I love you too."


End file.
